Middle of Nowhere
by coleypunk-y2j
Summary: After the bus breaks down, 14 WWE Superstars are stranded somewhere in the middle of a forest. At first, everything seems okay, but things turn weird real fast. Feat. CM Punk, Sheamus, Christian, Randy Orton, Chris Jericho, etc. WARNINGS INSIDE! Please Review!
1. Breakdown

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

Phil had just finished snapping a photo of a sleeping Zack Ryder on his phone when the bus they were on started to make weird noises. Being the only one awake, he had nobody around to ask if they heard the bus making weird noises, too. He looked out the window to his left and admired briefly the horror movie-like woods on either side of the road, the rain pouring down in all directions and the wind whipping madly. He hoped the bus didn't break down, as they were in the middle of nowhere.

Randy Orton was asleep on the seat next to the bathroom all the way in the back. That bastard always claimed that seat. Cody was one in front of him, with Big Show across the aisle, who was squished awkwardly into the too-small seat. Skipping a row, Kane slept on the right side of the bus, his face squished against the window. Zack slept one in front of Cody, which left Phil a nice view of Kane to his right, Zack to his back, and Alberto Del Rio's smelly, sweaty head in front of him. Daniel Bryan, Chris Jericho, Santino, Christian, Sheamus, John Cena, and The Miz occupied the rest of the seats on the bus. The fourteen men packed into one humid bus were starting to make Phil's stomach turn. It didn't help that they had all skipped showering after the show in favor of the better quality ones at the hotel they'd be arriving at in the wee hours of the morning. But now they were lost, so it really didn't matter.

One final squeak came from the bus before it slowly rolled to a stop. Phil jerked his head up towards the bus driver. His hands were raised in the air, and one could nearly see the frustration rolling off of him in waves. _Fuck,_ Phil thought, intuitively knowing they were stuck.

"Hey! What gives?" Phil heard Cena speak loudly. He poked his head up and stared towards the front of the bus to see what would unfold. Cena kneeled on his seat and crossed his ridiculously-muscular arms across his massive chest.

"It's the bus," the driver sadly informed the wrestler. "She's finally gone an' broke down."

The driver buried his face in his hands and started to cry. Cena gave him a weird look before he sat back down again. Phil chuckled slowly and shook his head. This literally could _not_ be happening right now. First of all, there was a plane to catch in a little over an hour that would take them to the next venue. Second, they had an early house show the next day before they went to the venue. Third, they were stuck on a fucking bus in the pouring rain in the middle of nowhere.

As the minutes passed on, more of the men started to wake up to an unmoving bus. Phil watched Kane stretch his long arms in the air before giving his balls a scratch. Phil looked on disgusted as a massive yawn escaped his lips. "I thought we didn't stop for another half hour, at least. Are we at the airport already?"

"No, the bus broke down and if you have any complaints about it, the bus driver is having an emotional breakdown that his beloved bus finally gave out," Phil spat, aggravated. He just wanted to lie down in a bed and relax. Everything else he needed was in his bag, which was stowed away under the bus. That included street clothes. Nobody got changed out of their wrestling attire as they booked it as soon as possible to the bus. His thighs were starting to chafe and his trunks were giving him a massive wedgie.

"What the fuck is happening?" Chris Jericho yelled arrogantly, looking around at the men with his narrowed icy blue eyes.

"The bus broke," Phil informed the fiery blond.

"No shit, Sherlock," Chris sneered in Phil's direction. "Why the fuck aren't we doing anything about it?"

"Yes, Jericho, because we can definitely fix a fucking bus," Phil spat. That arrogant bastard rubbed him the wrong way all the time. "But since you're the almighty Ayatollah of Rock and Rollah, perhaps God granted you the gift to fix internal engines."

"Fuck you, Punk," Jericho snapped, getting out of his seat. He stormed down the aisle and slammed the bathroom door behind him. His little tirade woke everyone except Zack, who could literally sleep through being tortured. Randy stretched in his seat and yawned. The Viper stood to his full height and went to the front of the bus, returning with the busses trash can. He shoved it underneath the door handle of the bathroom and kicked it in place with those deadly black boots.

"That should keep the douche contained," Randy murmured, shutting his eyes in hopes of going back to sleep. "Warning, do not feed the douche. You may get shit and pissed on, and bitten with those gnarly teeth."

Phil snorted once and stood up. His legs were starting to cramp. "What are we going to do about this?" Phil asked seriously, looking around at the men. They all looked back with blank expressions on their confused faces, which made Phil sigh slightly. "Any ideas?"

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Sheamus spoke in his thick Irish accent. "We can't call for any help."

"No cell reception, either," Christian put in, waving his Blackberry in the air briefly. "Nada on AT&T, T-Mobile, and Verizon."

"We could walk," Cody offered the conversation.

"Great idea, Cody!" Phil spoke with false enthusiasm, giving his hands a brief, condescending clap. "Except for a few things. One, it's pouring out. Two, we have no idea where we are. Three, have you looked at our surroundings? It's screaming horror movie."

Cody averted his gaze from the Second City Saint and huffed. Phil turned back to the men, who were waiting with expectant looks on their faces.

"Maybe the driver knows where we are," The Miz suggested.

"Take a gander at the bus driver, Miz," Phil spoke, a little sarcasm leaking into his voice. "He's crying because the bus broke. Do you really think we are going to get through his thick, emotional skull right now?"

"Guess not," Miz murmured, looking down and beginning to crack his knuckles.

Half the men gave up and decided to go back to sleep. This left Phil wide-awake with Sheamus, Christian, Cena, and The Miz.

"You think the doors of the bus work, Punk?" Christian asked, walking towards the front of the bus as he spoke.

"Yeah, just collide into 'em," he spoke, rubbing his tired eyes. "It doesn't matter if the bus is off or not."

Christian gave him a nod and sent his body crashing against the double doors. They opened quickly, and Christian fought to maintain his balance on the narrow steps. The sound of the wind whistling and rain pounding on the ground filled the bus loudly.

"Let's go take a look out here."

"No way, dude," Miz spoke, his eyes widening ever so slightly. "It's pitch-black, pouring, and creepy as shit out there. You have fun."

Christian shrugged once before looking at the men who were awake expectantly. Cena was of no help, as he was slowly drifting back off to sleep. Sheamus and Phil stood up and accompanied Christian outside. The wind instantly shot through their skin and nipped their insides. The rain slammed into their faces, blinding them on and off as they headed towards the front of the bus.

"Why are we out here?" Sheamus shouted over the wind and rain. The Celtic Warrior was shivering madly as he waited for Christian to finish examining the front of the bus. Phil stood behind him, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet to try and stay warm.

"It's no use," Christian yelled. "What little knowledge I have of engines is not working. We're screwed."

"Why don't we get back in the bus, then," Phil suggested, nodding his head towards the open doors. "It's terrible out here."

"We should walk a little bit to see if there are any signs around," Christian spoke, pulling his spandex uniform up to his hips again. Phil and Sheamus could either follow Christian or go back on the bus and listen to everyone bitch. The two champions followed the blond through the muddy, unpaved road.

"Did that driver purposely take us into the middle of nowhere, somehow knowing the bus was gonna give?" Sheamus wondered aloud, kicking clumps of mud from his boots as he walked. Phil's "Best in the World" t-shirt stuck to his body uncomfortably as he fought to keep up with the Intercontinental champion.

"I did not want to spend my night soaked to the bone, wandering through fucking Narnia or some shit," Phil complained. He kept his head down to protect it from the weather.

"Would you two stop _bitching_ for two seconds so we could get our way out of here?" Christian snapped, looking behind at the two men. They avoided his intense glance until he started walking again. After about ten minutes of finding nothing but muddier road, Christian finally gave a defeated sigh and turned to face the other men.

"It's no use. We're stuck out here."

Phil rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I could have told you that when the bus broke down."

"It's not like you had better ideas, Punk," Christian hissed. "At least I tried to get us out of this."

"Laurinaitis is going to have a conniption," Sheamus spoke. "Fourteen of his best men, including all of his male champions, are lost in the middle of nowhere with no means of contact to the outside world. To be honest, I'd rather be stuck out here than face his dumb fucking ass."

Despite the growing tension between the only sensible men in the group, they all gave up and laughed when they pictured the GM storming around, getting pissed because his top men weren't there to perform any of the upcoming shows.

"We might as well start heading back," Christian said, starting to walk back towards the bus. Their footprints lead them straight back to the desolate bus, and they climbed the steep steps while shutting the door behind them. The noise of the soaking wet men entering the bus didn't wake or disturb anybody. The three men sat near the front of the bus and stayed close together to discuss any ways of getting themselves out of the situation they were in.

"Anybody have the time?" Phil asked, looking down at his now-dead iPhone. He dropped it onto the seat and left it there.

"The bus clock says 1:03," Christian said, hitting his forehead against the back of his seat. "Why don't we get some sleep? Nothing will be accomplished if we're tired."

At that moment, the dim lights on the bus gave out. Everything turned pitch black. The only light in the bus came from the clock on the radio. Phil sat back in his seat and started to let his mind wander. He knew there was no way he was going to fall asleep. He barely slept, anyway.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know I left off a bit short and in between scenes, but I didn't want to give you too much too soon. Anyway, this is a new fic that I've spent the past few weeks writing. It's all completed, so updates will come quicker if there are more reviews. (I like reviews, okay? xD) Hope you enjoyed it thus far. I really went out on a limb here and tried to make it different from my other fics, and hopefully you'll agree when I say it is. Please Review! c:**


	2. STFU, Jericho!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

To his surprise, Phil managed to doze off for a while. The clock on the bus now read 3:42. He yawned once and noticed that Sheamus had passed out on his shoulder. Not wanting to disturb the Great White, he rubbed his eyes briefly before focusing his eyes on the seat in front of him. He stayed like that, letting his mind wander, for nearly an hour. Sheamus started to stir next to him before waking up and blinking his eyes a few times in succession.

"What time is it?" Sheamus murmured sleepily, rubbing his tired eyes. Phil looked over at the clock briefly.

"4:27," he spoke, scratching his forehead. The rain hadn't let up one bit, and the wind still howled loudly. Sheamus stood up, and Phil followed suit.

"Do you think we can let Jericho out of the bathroom now?" Sheamus asked sarcastically. "I have to take a leak."

"Shit, we left him in there all this time?" Phil asked, a little surprised they had forgotten about him. "Yeah, get him out. I need to piss, too, and I'm not going out _there_ to do it."

While Sheamus went to unleash the wild beast, Phil started to nudge Christian awake. He woke with a start, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to make out who was poking him.

"Shh, Christian, it's just me," Phil spoke, nearly feeling the relief roll off of the small Canadian's shoulders.

"Shit, sorry. I was having a nightmare. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, well, aside from the obvious," Phil mumbled. "I just think we're really stuck out here. How are we going to get back?"

"Don't know, Punk," Christian sighed, yawning once. A loud shriek came from the back of the bus.

"How _dare_ you lock me in there for God-knows how long?" Chris bellowed loudly. Phil could just make out the shapes of the two men near the bathroom door, and watched as the smaller one shoved the larger one in his haste to storm out of his confine. "For the love of Christ!"

"Shut up, Jericho," Phil grunted at the moody blond. "Nobody's thrilled that we're stuck out here. Put a sock in it or I'll shove my boot so far up your ass you won't know what day it is."

"You'd like that too much, _Punky,_" Jericho teased with a snicker. "Don't think I haven't noticed you staring at my ass when I walk by."

"I literally have no fucking idea what you're talking about, asshole," Phil shot back. He was so thankful that it was dark in the bus so that the annoying little creep wouldn't see Phil's cheeks turn crimson red in embarrassment. There was just something about that man that, despite how fucking irritating he was, just appealed to Phil beyond his wildest imagination. He shook his head once and crossed his arms angrily.

An annoyed growl sounded from the back of the bus. "Would you please just SHUT THE FUCK UP, JERICHO?"

"Fuck off, Orton!" Chris screamed back, raising his middle fingers in the air in Randy's direction. Given the blackness of the bus, Randy didn't see the gesture.

"Shut the fuck up, all of you!" Phil screamed above the nonsensical bickering. Everyone turned their heads towards Phil, even though they couldn't see him well. "If we're going to get out of this fucking mess, we're going to have to get along to do so. I don't give a shit if you hate each other; we're going to be stuck here for life if we don't work as a team."

"Kid's got a point," Kane sounded from further down in the bus. "Stop fucking arguing like children and bite your fucking tongue if you have to."

Silence hovered above the men as everybody sat back down and bore holes into the seats in front of them. Phil slid down in his seat with a frustrated sigh. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger and massaged them lightly. If Sheamus didn't get out of the bathroom quick enough, he was going to piss down his leg.

As if on cue, the wan man exited the bathroom and tapped Phil on the shoulder. "Sorry, Punk. Got in there and I had to take a shit. It doesn't smell."

Phil bounced out of his seat and made his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he released his urine into the toilet. His bladder felt about ready to explode. After a few moments of continuous urination, he shook himself dry and left the bathroom. He could feel everybody watching him expectantly as he made his way to his seat.

"You seem to be the only one with a level-headed mindset here, Punk," Kane spoke. He could feel the Big Red Monster get out of his seat, as it made a slight creaking noise in the process. "What are we going to do to get out of here?"

Phil suddenly felt the weight that was being dropped onto his shoulders. It was comparable to the time in ECW where he tried to put the GTS on Big Daddy V. He shook the memory from his head and kneeled up on his seat so his voice would travel the distance of the bus.

"We're not going to get anything accomplished if we're tired!" Phil stated loudly. "Everyone should get some rest, and in the morning we'll be able to think clearly. Besides, there will be some light on us, even if the goddamned rain doesn't let up. Everyone, go to sleep."

He heard a few snickers at the same time he recognized his pun. Smirking, he slid back down in his seat and shut his eyes. Even if he didn't manage to fall asleep, at least he could rest his sore eyes. As his breathing steadied, he listened to the men around him snore and breathe through their mouths. He drew his knees up to his chest and snuggled against the window, somehow comfortable in the awkward position.

* * *

**A/N: Originally, I was gonna wait like, another day to update this. But since I kind of left off between scenes, I figured I'd give this to you a bit early. I didn't want to give too much too soon! Thank you for the reviews, too, by the way. I really appreciate them and they do make a positive impact on my day. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. I'll update again by Friday (which means no later, if everything goes according to plan!) but we'll see. ;) Please Review!**


	3. Herbert

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

Phil woke up to sunlight, albeit very pale, shining into his eyes. His surroundings were still very dark, but at least he could see clearer. The clock at the front of the bus read 9:33. After a huge yawn, he looked around at his colleagues and noticed most of them sleeping still. He stood up and stretched his slender limbs before pulling his trunks out of his ass and making his way to the very front of the bus. Noticing but not caring that the bus driver was gone, Phil cleared his throat to get the attention of the other superstars.

"Everyone, let's start waking up. We've got a long day ahead of us if we plan to get back into civilization."

A few more men started to stir, which only left Sheamus, Christian, the Miz, Jericho, Zack, and Randy still asleep. Noting that Sheamus and Christian had a longer night than the others, he went around and triple tapped each remaining sleeping man. The Miz and Jericho awoke easily, while Zack was like a fucking brick and the Apex Predator remained headstrong about opening his eyes.

"Do what you have to do, and we'll leave at 10:30 or earlier, depending on how long you guys take."

Somewhat surprised that the men didn't question him once, he went back to the front of the bus to investigate about the driver. The old, chubby man's coat sat on the back of the seat, and a pair of sunglasses sat collecting dust on the dashboard. _Why the fuck would the driver just book it, especially given the current circumstances?_ Phil wondered to himself, rooting through the pockets of the jacket for clues about the driver. His slender fingers wrapped around a square-shaped object. He drew his hand out of the pocket and saw a beat-up, leather wallet in his palm. He flipped it open to find an American Express credit card, a Washington State driver's license, a few gift cards to miscellaneous clothing stores, some crinkled up money and loose change, and a few folded pieces of paper. The name on the license read Herbert Smith. He was 5'8", wore round wire glasses, and was 49 years old. He had a small gap between his top front teeth, and his round face housed a few acne scars and a scruffy mustache.

Phil counted the money and arrived at $42.63 as the total before he started to unfold the pieces of paper. One was his birth certificate, which stated the information that was on the license regarding his identity. The second was what seemed like a grocery list, as he scrawled messily on it _Milk, eggs, noodles, cookies_. The third seemed like a personal reminder, and the fourth made Phil furrow his brows in confusion.

_My dream 5-14:  
It's night and I'm driving my bus like usual. There's a bunch of passengers. Good 'ole Shirley goes and breaks on me. We're lost and they're mad at me. It's raining so hard that we can't walk to find our way back. Things start to happen that nobody would have expected.  
…_

_This dude's a fucking freak,_ Phil told himself. He shoved everything back into the wallet and put it back in the pocket. Everyone was walking around, taking turns in the bathroom and for the most part getting along. Phil glanced out the window at the pouring rain and groaned. They could have got lost anywhere in the world, but it _had_ to be the soggy Pacific Northwest. Phil went back to the Viper and shook him once more.

"Dammit, Punk," Randy groaned while showing off his teeth in a tired growl. "I just want to sleep."

"You can sleep," Phil started, trying to pull the tall man to his feet, "when we get the hell out of here."

Randy gave up and got to his feet, rubbing his eyes slowly. Phil left him and approached the Broski, who still slept soundly.

"Zack, wake up," Phil shouted, slapping him on the shoulder. The living zombie started to shift around. Phil knew he would wake up on his own and stay that way, so he went towards the front of the bus again.

Phil waited until ten to wake his sensible comrades. They awoke easily and appeared well-rested.

"What's on the agenda today, Punk?" Sheamus asked, stifling a yawn so he could speak.

"Well, I was hoping to pry the lock off of the stowaway portion of the bus so we could get our bags," Phil spoke, scratching his forehead briefly. "Then we'll start walking, making sure to leave a trail behind. If we get lost, at least we can get back to the safety of the bus."

"It's so cold and rainy," Christian noted. "I hope we can get the locks off. Otherwise we're going to end up with pneumonia and hypothermia."

"Yeah. We can't afford to have anybody fall sick out here," Phil spoke. "At least we could grab some clothes to keep ourselves warm. Anyway, why don't you two go get ready? We're leaving at 10:30."

The two men nodded towards Phil and headed towards the bathroom. Phil sat back down in his seat and let out a huge yawn. Just the thought of what was going to be accomplished later on made him exhausted. As soon as he allowed himself to relax into the seat, he felt someone's hot breath in his ear. He ignored it until the person started to talk.

"Aw, rough night?" Jericho snickered, perverse humor lacing his voice. "It must be tough popping a boner out here over your male colleague and not being able to do anything about it. That must have been _torture._"

Phil whipped his head around and glared at the super douche. His face showcased that signature, snide smirk and Phil's heart skipped a beat before he regained control of himself. "Shut the fuck _up,_ Jericho."

"Suit yourself," Chris spoke, holding his hands in the air. "I figured hearing my voice would soothe you, but I guess it's just my ass you want."

Chris got up and turned his ass towards Phil and gave it a quick shake. He slapped it and stared at Phil with a slightly agape mouth before he smirked again. "If you want it, baby, come get it."

Phil hit his head against the window a few times until the noisy breathing of Jericho went further down the bus. He had to hold his hands over his crotch to hide the ever-hardening erection in his thin trunks. He wasn't even gay, but that blond little fuck had some sort of charm to him that made Phil want to bend him over a table and fuck the shit out of him.

Thinking in turn about Mark Henry and Khali naked, Phil sighed with relief as his erection fell and arousal stopped coursing through his veins. He wiped the nervous sweat from his forehead before letting out his shaky breath slowly. It was going to be tough trying to maintain his composure with Jericho prancing around in his tiny trunks, toying with the younger man.

Phil relaxed into his seat once again, and waited until the men stopped stirring on the bus. The clock read 10:23, but if everyone was ready…

"Everybody ready?" Phil asked, standing up once again. Nods came from the other men. "Okay. I figured we'd try to snap the locks off the stowaway portion of the bus so we could get our bags. Randy, you're good at punting, why don't you come out with me first to give it a go?"

The taller man grunted in response and walked down the aisle towards Phil. He shoved his tattooed shoulders against the doors and lead Randy to the side of the bus. Phil squinted his eyes to keep the driving rain out as he examined the locks. They were all broken off.

"What in the hell…" Phil's voice trailed off as he opened the small door. Everything was gone.

"Who the fuck took all of our shit?" Randy hissed, giving the side of the bus an angry kick.

"Maybe Herbert took it when he randomly fucked off."

"Who the hell is Herbert?" Randy growled, mad at the loss of their belongings, not at the paler man.

"He's the driver," Phil explained. "He's nowhere to be found. He left his jacket and wallet on the bus. I think he had a psychotic break." He chose to leave out the part about the note in the wallet, figuring if the guy really was a creep, it'd be best not to worry anyone.

"Well, that's just fucking great," Randy seethed. "We're lost in the middle of fucking nowhere with none of our belongings and no way of getting back to civilization."

"What the hell are we going to do about food and water? And what about warmth?" Phil wondered aloud, squatting down to hold his head in his hands. He felt a swift, although rather gentle, kick to his ribs. Randy hovered above him with his right hand outstretched.

"Come on, Punk; let's get back on the bus and think of some way to get out of this hellhole."

Phil accepted Randy's hand and followed the Viper onto the bus again. Everyone looked at Phil expectantly as he shook some of the rain from his hair. After shutting the doors again, he slumped down at the front of the bus.

"Someone busted the locks and took our shit," Phil sighed, running a hand through his soaking wet hair. "And the driver screwed. I really think we're stuck out here."

* * *

**A/N:** School's out for the summer! (cue Alice Cooper) Hope you enjoyed ;) Please Review!


	4. Lost

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

Angry voices rose up among the men. Phil rose to his feet and raised his voice over the complaints. "We're going to need a source of water. That's our main priority. Then we're going to need food and warmth. Since we're probably going to be stuck out here for a while, we should just accept the fact and take the cards life handed us and use 'em." Phil looked around at the men briefly before speaking again. "Big Show! I want you to take Cody, Santino, Alberto, and Daniel to find a fresh water source. Make sure you leave a big trail behind you so you can find your way back. Might I suggest someone drag a stick deep into the earth as you walk?"

"Sure thing, Punk," Big Show said, gathering up his group before heading off the bus.

"Kane, will you take Zack and Miz on a food gathering expedition?"

"Sure," Kane spoke, ushering Miz and Zack off of the bus. Phil turned towards Randy and gave him a brief nod.

"Randy, take Cena and Christian along the woods. Christian knows a great deal about edible plants, so maybe we could find some nourishment there."

The three men left the bus and headed off. Phil looked back and saw Sheamus and Jericho, who had a nasty smirk set on his face, left on the bus. He hadn't even noticed that he left Y2J to inevitably go on a search with himself. He groaned, knowing that he'd have to leave the reliable Irish man to guard the bus and take Jericho off by himself.

"Sheamus, I want you to stay here and guard the bus. If Herbert comes back around, I want to know why he left and why our shit is missing," Phil spoke. Sheamus gave him a brief nod. "Jericho, you and I are going to find some fire starters or something to keep us warm."

Jericho got out of his seat and followed Phil off of the bus. Phil handed Chris a long, sturdy stick and instructed him to leave a trail behind them.

"Sure thing," Chris said sweetly, positioning the stick behind his body. Phil rolled his eyes once and started off through clearer parts of the woods.

"You think we're gonna find any dry wood out here, _Phil_?" Chris asked innocently. Phil narrowed his eyes and tried to ignore the Canadian and his remarks. "It's so wet and chilly. I hope we can find something to heat us up."

Phil bit his lip and willed his dick to stop twitching upwards. He'd be damned if he let the douche find out he would give his life to bend him over a table and shove his dick so far up his ass he saw stars. As they continued on, however, Jericho shut his mouth and eventually Phil went limp again. He breathed a sigh of relief as he and Chris continued searching for any dry pieces of wood, a task that proved very difficult in the rainy climate. After over an hour of searching, Phil finally threw his hands in the air and sighed with defeat.

"It's no use. Everything out here is drenched," he groaned, turning to face Chris. The t-shirt he had been wearing when they left the bus was gone, and the rain collected on his sturdy chest and ran down the carved-out grooves in his abdomen. Phil pulled his eyes away from the spectacle and forced himself to look into the blue eyes of the other man.

"Let's go back, then," Chris murmured. He let Phil lead the way as he fought to see the line Jericho left in the ground. After a couple hundred feet, though, the line disappeared altogether. Phil failed to realize that the rain would easily and quickly wash away any line or footprint put into the sodden ground. His heart skipping a beat, he turned to face Chris.

"The line stops here," The Straight Edge Superstar informed the blond. Phil watched Chris' eyes widen with terror before he dropped to his knees and let out a wail.

"What do you mean?" He asked frantically. "I left a deep line all the way out here! How can it be gone already?"

"The rain," Phil sighed, flicking his lip ring. "It washed it away in no time at all. Why don't we walk a little further to try and find a sheltered area to get out of the rain for a bit?"

Phil helped the Canadian to his feet and through the woods. They finally came across a sheltered area among some rocks, and crawled underneath and into it. It was like a short cave of sorts, and there were no traces of animals making it their home. Phil groaned and lay on his stomach, his face to the opening of the cave. He shut his eyes and tried to calm himself. He felt Jericho scooting up next to him, and felt the blond brushing against his skin.

"I'm cold," Chris complained. Phil looked into Chris' eyes and saw tears welling in them. He never knew Chris was such a pansy, but couldn't help but try to comfort the charming man.

"It's okay. We'll get out of here soon." Phil was never really good at soothing people, but he tried his best. Phil watched as a tear dropped from Chris' blue eyes and ran down his cheek. Not thinking, he used his thumb to brush it away. Chris gave him a weak smile.

"I'm glad you're brave, because I'm not," he confessed, rolling into Phil's side. He felt his heart race at the skin-to-skin contact with the irresistible blond. "Will you suck me off?"

"What?" Phil exclaimed, shying away from the man. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Phil, it's no secret that you like me," Chris explained, looking up at Phil with a pout. "I promise I won't tell anybody. But I'm scared and I want to feel better, so please-"

Phil cut Chris off by kissing the man on the lips firmly. The two rolled around a few times until Phil was on top, pressing his lips against Chris' passionately. Finally given an excuse to manhandle the man the way he wanted to, he was taking advantage of every moment of it.

"Mm… Punk, ah…"

Phil started to grind his groin against Jericho's. His erection was becoming painful, and Phil could easily see the indent of Chris' in his trunks. He wasted no time pulling his trunks to above his knee pads and exposing Chris' glory as well. His erection bounced against his stomach as Phil set it free from the fabric containing it.

"Just do it," Chris urged Phil, drawing his knees to his chest to give the raven-haired man better access to his nether regions. Phil grabbed hold of Chris' hips and lined himself up with the tiny pink hole presented before him. He pushed past the barrier and absorbed the yelps and shrieks of pleasure coming from the other man.

"Ah, Punk… So fuckin' tight… around your cock, yeah… ohm, uh – yeah, like that… Oh God, Punk…"

Phil thrust his way in and out of the hot tightness that was Chris Jericho. He panted and moaned loudly as he felt Chris' walls constrict around his length and pulsate with pleasure. It definitely put a new meaning to the term Walls of Jericho.

Phil felt himself approaching the end. Waves of pleasure radiated from his spine to his entire body as he shuddered inside the older man and left his seed in the warm channel. Chris' cock twitched and pulsated a few more times before he released his silky, white essence over his own stomach. Phil couldn't help but lean forward and lap it up from the rock hard abs, leaving a trail from his tongue along the grooves. Pulling out of Chris, he pulled his trunks back up and flopped onto the ground next to Chris. The blond shifted as he shrugged his trunks back up before leaning into Phil's side, panting heavily.

"Do you think someone's going to come looking for us?" Chris murmured, his body shivering from the cold. Phil wrapped his arms around Chris and pulled him close to keep him warm.

"I hope so," Phil murmured back. "Sheamus or Christian would know what to do. I'd trust Randy or Kane to find us, too."

"Why do you hate me?" Jericho asked suddenly. Phil shrugged his shoulders once and sighed slowly.

"Your ego and your attitude is a huge problem," Phil told him. "You're arrogant, bossy, irritating, unreasonable, snide, and rude. But at the same time, you're so irresistible it's not even funny."

"I could have guessed that last part," Chris snickered. "And hey, you gotta give me more credit than that! Yes, my in-ring behavior is shitty, but my normal behavior is much better."

"I'll give credit where credit is due," Phil spoke. "Besides, I was hoping that, especially after _that,_ we'd be able to get to know each other for who we really are."

Chris gave a simple nod before resting his chin on his hands. Phil scooted the two backwards so the rain didn't splash their faces and spooned Chris on the uneven ground. Chris molded into Phil's body and the two dozed off, keeping each other warm.

* * *

**A/N: I tried to make this fic different than my others. But I really can't resist Jeripunk smut. ;) Hope you enjoyed. Please Review!**


	5. Rescued

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

**Sheamus' POV**

Sheamus tugged at his orange hair in frustration. Everybody was back on the bus, minus Punk and Jericho. And nobody would _shut the fuck up_ for two seconds to hear what he had to say.

"SHUT UP!" Sheamus finally yelled over the loud arguing. Everyone stopped talking and turned to face the Celtic Warrior.

"Finally!" He spat, exasperated. "We found a fresh water stream a few hundred feet from here. Cody and Show have gone to get some. Kane brought back a rabbit that he killed with his bare hands. We'll have to share that along with the roots and berries Christian brought back."

"And what are we supposed to do about Punk and Jericho?" Orton shot back.

"If they're not back in an hour, we'll send a search party out to find them. Got it?"

Everybody nodded in agreement towards Sheamus as they went on with their business. Truth be told, Sheamus was scared out of his tits that Herbert got his slimy hands on the two men, or they were in serious danger. He had to admit, though, that Punk would get them out of trouble if it crossed their path. He managed to take a nap while everyone else divided up the food and savored every morsel. Christian woke him up and waved a small piece of meat and a handful of berries under his nose.

"Eat up," he told Sheamus. "You're leading the search party soon. Randy, Zack, and Kane are going with you."

Sheamus accepted the food and wolfed it down hungrily before standing up and rallying his group together.

"Christian, I'm leaving you in charge. Stay on the bus until we get back."

Sheamus didn't wait to see Christian nod in approval. He hopped off the bus steps and found two big sticks. He handed one to Kane and kept one for himself.

"I'm going to lead," Sheamus spoke. "Kane will take up the rear. We'll leave two trails behind so that hopefully the rain doesn't wash both of them away."

Sheamus dug his stick into the ground and started walking while making sure it remained deep in the ground as he walked on.

"You don't think they'd just be running amok out here, do you?" Kane piped up from the back of the group. "I'd think they'd try to find some shelter from this torrential rain."

"You're right," Sheamus agreed, stopping in his tracks. "I think we should be looking for areas they could be hiding. Think overhanging rocks, small caves, or something else like that."

A shrill noise rang throughout the woods. The men froze to listen. It sounded like somebody yelling or crying, and was definitely not an animal.

"Sounds like it's coming from further ahead," Randy whispered, still listening for any other noises. The noise repeated itself a few times before stopping.

Slowly and quietly, Sheamus lead the four men towards where they heard the noise. The undergrowth was thick there, and burrs and thorns scratched at their exposed skin painfully.

"Fuck!" Zack hissed quietly. "I've got a thorn right near my damn eye!"

While Randy and Kane stayed there to remove the thorn, Sheamus eyed a small, narrow cave among thickly-growing trees. He made his way through the vines and leaves until he could kneel down and peer inside. His eyes met with CM Punk's startled olive eyes.

"The rain…" Punk coughed out, shivering madly. "Washed away the trail…"

"Shh," Sheamus told the tattooed superstar. To the rest of the search party, he yelled, "Guys, come quickly!"

Kane, Randy, and Zack ran over to where Sheamus was kneeling. CM Punk sat crossed-legged with his head slightly bowed down in the cave. Jericho's still body was wrapped around his, and the two shivered violently.

"Are you going to help us?" Punk whispered before coughing harshly. Jericho stirred in his arms and looked up at the search party.

"I'm so cold," he whispered with teeth chattering.

"Come here," Sheamus said, reaching for Chris. He shook his head quickly and held onto Punk tighter.

"No!"

Sheamus sighed with frustration and managed to pull both men out of the cave together. Punk looked up at the men with tired eyes. His lips were blue and his skin was pale. Jericho didn't look too much better.

"Randy, take Jericho and carry him. Kane, take Punk. We have to get them back to the bus now."

Sheamus waited for Randy to pry Jericho away from Punk and hold him in his arms, and Kane to secure Punk in his. He started back on the trail they left until they reached the bus again.

"Zack, pound on the doors until someone opens them!" Sheamus instructed, watching the Broski slam his fists against the doors until Big Show butted them open with his shoulders.

"Show, go grab Zack's blanket, and round up as many spare shirts as you can," Sheamus spoke, ushering the near hypothermic men onto seats next to each other. As soon as they were released, they grasped onto each other in an attempt to warm themselves. Big Show returned with three t-shirts and Zack's blanket in hand. Sheamus used one of the shirts to rub the men down and dry them off, and then put a t-shirt on both of them before wrapping them with the blanket tightly. Their noses ran like two leaky faucets.

Seeing Cody at first glance, Sheamus waved him over. "Go get the First Aid kit."

"We're in the middle of nowhere. There's no First Aid kit," Cody spoke with his slight lisp, putting his hands on his hips.

Sheamus stared at Cody briefly before pointing towards the front of the bus. He watched as Cody's eyes followed his finger to see where he was pointing. "Oh."

Cody ran up to the front of the bus and unhooked the First Aid kit from the wall. He thrust it into Sheamus' face, but the Irish man waved it away.

"I want to keep an eye on these two," Sheamus explained. "Pull out the Basic Emergency Care sheet in there and tell me what to do for hypothermia."

Sheamus kept his eyes on the shivering men as he listened to Cody rustle with paper until he found what he was looking for.

"First Aid for hypothermia," Cody began. "Step one is to eliminate the cause. Remove victim from cold and slowly warm to prevent dangerous heart arrhythmias. Watch for signs of shock and treat for shock if applicable. Obtain professional medical help as soon as possible."

Sheamus removed the blanket from around the two men and ignored the quiet complaints he received. "Sorry, fellas, but I can't warm you too quickly or it will cause problems, not solve them. Now that you're back in the bus and the temperature in here is constant and warm, we can wait until later to give you the blanket."

Making sure the men were alright, he got to his feet and went to the front of the bus. A small box of tissues was wedged into one of the many cup holders. Sheamus tugged it out and brought it to Chris and Punk. Too weak to reach for them on their own, Sheamus handed both of the men a tissue. They wiped their noses and balled the material into their fists.

"I'm going to leave that there," Sheamus said, sticking it between the two. He sighed tiredly as he crossed the aisle and sat down himself. Christian approached him from behind and tapped his shoulder lightly. He turned around to face the slender man.

"Want me to boil some water for them?" he asked. Sheamus looked up at him in confusion.

"The whole reason they're in this mess is because they were trying to find fire starters and failed," Sheamus mumbled. Christian held up a lighter.

"You can thank Daniel later for smoking," Christian joked lightly. "And we have the toilet paper in the bathroom. If he hadn't have double checked his empty cigarette package for a smoke, we never would have known it was there."

Sheamus gave him a brief nod. "Yeah, bring them some warm water. I think, but I'm not sure, that there's a thermos at the front of the bus. I may or may not have seen one when I found the tissues."

Christian left Sheamus and he finally allowed himself to fall asleep.

* * *

**CM Punk's POV**

"Son of a bitch, there were matches in this fucking thing the whole time."

Phil opened his tired eyes slowly and tried to make sense of what was going on. He felt warmer and wasn't shivering as violently anymore, but his head throbbed and his nose still ran like Niagara Falls. Jericho's sleeping body leaned against his, and their arms intertwined slightly. He took a quick look at the clock on the bus and noted briefly that it was 7:39 pm. They had been stranded out in some abandoned woods for nearly a day now, but it felt like so much longer. A loud sneeze overtook his tired body, which only served to make his nose run more. He brought the soiled tissue he still clutched in his fist up to his nose and wiped away the leaking fluids slowly. His eyes focused on Christian, who was coming back with a thermos again.

"I know you had some a little while ago, but Sheamus told me to give you some more," Christian said, handing the travel mug over to the Straight Edge Superstar. He grasped it in his hands, his slender fingers gripping it tightly, and brought it towards his mouth. The steam made his nose leak faster, and he hurried to take a warming sip before the mucous dripped down to his mouth. He wiped his nose again and nudged Chris with the mug, making him take a sip. He tiredly did so before curling back up against the tattooed man and drifting off again. Before Jericho had the chance to get too comfortable, Phil blew his nose a few times in the hopes that the mucous would hold off before draining down his face again. He took the mug from Chris and took a few plentiful sips. The warmth spread from his stomach and to his entire body.

"How are you feeling?" Randy asked, plopping down in the seat in front of him.

"Like shit," Phil murmured. All he wanted to do was sleep, but damn it, insomnia is a royal _bitch_.

The Viper chuckled. "You look it."

"What, are you calling me ugly?" Phil accused, humor laced in his voice.

Phil watched as Orton's eyes narrowed playfully. "Watch it, Punk. I don't want to RKO such a sick man."

What a tool. "Don't think I can't put your baby-oiled ass to sleep just 'cause I'm sick," Phil shot back with a smile creeping on his face.

The comment about the baby oil sent the Apex Predator into hysterics. At least he was aware of the excess amount of oil he drenched his skin with.

"Now, go away, Randy," Phil murmured, waving his hand in the air. "I'm tired."

"Sure thing," Randy spoke, taking the mug from Phil's hands. "Don't get sick on us, okay? There's only a small amount of Tylenol in that First Aid kit."

"Yeah, yeah," Phil said, shutting his eyes and wrapping his sore arms around the Lionheart. A slight chuckle came from the Viper before he heard him walking away. Pulling Chris closer, he succumbed to his exhaustion.

* * *

**A/N: Fufufu, and it only gets more interesting from here... Hope you enjoyed this chapter - early update in honor of Father's Day!* Please Review!**  
_*(Completely unrelated to this fic, but I didn't recognize the holiday for Chris/Phil in Oh, Baby!)_


	6. Scared to Death

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

**Christian's POV**

"Those two have been sleeping for at least four hours now," Christian commented, leaning against the back of his seat to talk to the Celtic Warrior. The blond rubbed his tired eyes slowly and tried his best to ignore the loud rumbling coming from his stomach. Even though someone brought back another small animal and he brought back a plentiful amount of vegetation, his hunger still remained strong. _I'm a wrestler, dammit, not a wilderness junkie! We can't live like this much longer!_

"Let 'em sleep, fella," Sheamus spoke quietly. "Their bodies will fight infections while they rest."

"I know, Sheamus. It's just that we're not meant to be out here. Why can't somebody find us already? Didn't Laurinaitis even give a shit when none of us showed up to the house show?"

Christian hoped the pale man shared his concerns. He could bet that everyone shared his concerns, but to hear it from another man would be reassuring.

"I hear 'ya. Believe me, I do. But there's nothing we can do but make the best of our situation."

He let out a sigh. He knew Sheamus was right.

Underneath the sound of the rain, a knocking noise came from the double doors of the bus. Christian's eyes widened. Everyone else must have heard it, too, because silence fell over the men.

"I've got it," Sheamus whispered to all of the men. Christian watched as he grabbed a small flashlight and walked towards the front of the bus. He couldn't help but follow.

A sodden, dark figure stood outside, pounding desperately on the glass doors. The beam of light from the flashlight pierced the figures face. A familiar, chubby face stood outside in the pouring rain.

"Dude, it's Herbert!" Christian spoke quietly. In between Punk's periods of sleeping and being awake, he had explained about the driver booking it and leaving them stranded. "Do we open it?"

"Can we trust him?" Sheamus asked, taking a look at the skinny blond for a moment. Christian honestly shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't know, but we should at least let him in. This _is_ his bus…" His voice trailed off as Sheamus kicked open the doors and the soaking wet man rushed up the stairs. He kept the ray of light on the man as he sputtered and shook water from his body.

"Please help me!" Herbert cried, breaking the quiet in the bus. "There's someone after me! He's – He's right out here! Not even a few hundred feet away!"

Christian watched Sheamus roll his eyes. Couldn't blame him; this dude had a psychotic break about his beloved bus and just left them. He was probably just hallucinating or something.

"Look, buddy, I-" Sheamus was cut off by a loud scream emitting from the rotund driver.

"Shut the door! Shut the fucking door!" Herbert shrieked madly, waving his hands in the air. Since it was letting rain and cold into the bus, Christian shut it anyway. That seemed to calm the freak somewhat as he gasped for air. He dropped to his knees and clutched at his chest frantically.

"Ah, it hurts! I think I'm having a heart attack!" he cried loudly, tears falling down his chubby cheeks. Christian couldn't help raising an eyebrow skeptically as he grasped at his chest and moaned out in apparent pain. This man clearly couldn't be trusted if he just went through a psychotic break. He was probably just imagining all of it.

"Hey, just take a deep breath and it's gonna be okay," Sheamus said, giving the man a slight pat on the back. However, his breathing turned into hyperventilation before he collapsed totally onto the ground. His breathing stopped, as did all other movement. What the hell?

"What in the hell…" Sheamus muttered, bending down to take the man's pulse. He screwed his eyes shut once before rising to his feet. "I think he really was having a heart attack, guys. He's dead."

A few gasps were heard across the bus. "Since nobody here knows CPR, and there's no way we can get him to a hospital afterwards anyway, I guess we can say he's a goner."

"What do we do with his body?" Cody's voice said from somewhere in the back of the bus.

"We could bury him out there, but I think the soil's too wet for that. We could put him somewhere in the woods, I guess."

"Well, I'd like to know what the fuck he meant about someone following him," Randy spoke. "If there is somebody out there, do you think they can get us out of here?"

"If there's somebody out there and they saw the bus, I'd think they'd come to the door for us. We can wait until it's bright to bring him into the woods and speculate about some mysterious person who was supposedly after Herbert."

"Is he going to smell until morning?"

"Hope not," Sheamus said, stepping over the large, lifeless body and back to his seat. Christian followed.

"What if he's contagious?" Cody worried. A loud hiss came from Randy.

"Dumbass, he had a fucking _heart attack_. You can't catch a heart attack."

"Well, what if you can?"

Christian started laughing loudly at Cody's blatant ignorance. "Go poke him, you _dashing_ fellow, I dare you."

A _humph_ came from the small man before he stopped talking. Christian stopped laughing and instead just smiled and shook his head slowly. Besides the death of the driver, the rest of the night went smoothly and the men had no trouble getting some rest.

* * *

**A/N: Short chapter, sorry! The next one is longer, though. Hope you enjoyed. Please Review!**  
_I should note that all of the chapters will be relatively short. I wrote the entire fic ahead of time, and am breaking it up into short chapters instead of just lumping it all into one big fic or a couple lengthy chapters._


	7. You're Not Alone

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

**Sheamus' POV**

A startled yelp came from the front of the bus. Sheamus opened his eyes quickly and was immediately awoken from his nap.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck!"

Miz and Cody hopped around at the front of the bus, terror in their wide eyes. Those damn men claimed to be tough, but for such "tough men", they easily turned into pussies.

"What the fuck is the matter?" Sheamus spoke, his voice still groggy from sleep. He made his way to the front of the bus and looked to where the two men pointed. He felt his stomach drop to his toes when he saw what alarmed the men.

"What in Jesus' fucking name is this?" He shrieked, terrified. Earlier, Big Show and Kane had lifted Herbert and dumped him in the woods, far away from the bus. His body now lay in front of the double doors covered in blood, with "YOUR NOT ALONE" etched into his round abdomen messily.

"What … The … _FUCK_!"

"What in the hell is the problem?" Randy screeched from the back of the bus. Sheamus shot his eyes towards the Viper.

"What the hell's the problem, fella? Come take a fucking look."

Randy bounded up the aisle and turned to look at what frightened the men so badly. Everyone else on the bus watched as Randy's face turned white and he started sputtering for words.

"W-Wha-What i-is that su-supposed to m-mean?" Randy's voice shook violently as he started to fall backwards. Sheamus caught him and steadied him to his feet.

"What the hell is it?" Cena called from a few seats back.

"I'll tell 'ya what it is," Sheamus murmured slowly, a giant lump of fear settled in his throat. "It's Herbert's body and a cryptic message carved into his mother fuckin' stomach!"

"What's it say?" the Doctor of Thuganomics whispered, shrinking back in his seat slowly.

"YOUR NOT ALONE."

The faces of all the men on the bus went blank with fear. Despite how absolutely terrified he was, Sheamus managed to get a grip for the sakes of the other men. He started with Cody and Miz, who were sitting on the ground clutching each other and sobbing their eyes out.

"Alright, alright, you're safe with us, guys, okay?" he murmured soothingly, helping them to their feet and to adjacent seats. Afterward, he went back for Randy, whom was paralyzed with fear, and brought him back to his seat at the back.

"Everyone just take a deep breath for me, okay? Just in, and slowly let it out."

He waited until everybody managed to let out a very shaky breath. "Good. We can't know for certain if this isn't some type of hoax or prank. Hell, Herbert was gone a while, he could have got cell service somewhere and called some buddies to scare the piss out of us. And if we're on the bus together, we're safe, remember? The driver's seat door is locked, and the double doors only open if you really pry them apart from the outside. We'd hear if anyone was trying to get in. I say we just stay on the bus during the night like we have been doing, and not stray too far away from the bus, as well as never leave the bus without someone else. We need to remain calm."

"Fuck remaining calm!" Alberto Del Rio screeched, speaking up suddenly after having been so quiet throughout their abandonment. "I'm getting my ass off this bus and getting the hell out of here! Nobody is going to come for us, so I'm just gonna try my luck at finding our way back to civilization. Who's with me?"

Alberto stood at the front of the bus. After exchanging a few nervous glances, Santino was the only one who stood up and joined Alberto. "It's a'getting too a'much for me. I'ma have to go."

"Anyone else?" Alberto asked a last time. Nobody else got out of their seats. "Alright. Suit yourselves. When we get back to the normal world, we'll try to tell them where you are."

Those two idiots! There was no way they were going to last out in the wild for more than a few hours. Too cold, too wet, and perhaps even a sadistic, crazy killer in the depths of the woods, too! He couldn't stop the two men as they left the bus and hopped over Herbert's body. They at least had the courtesy to drag it to the foot of the woods before they set off, Alberto leading the Italian to parts unknown. He let out a sigh.

"Those two just kissed their lives away," he murmured. "At least they'll get far enough in the daylight that by the time night falls, they'll be killed close enough to civilization that someone will find their bodies."

He felt a hand slap across his shoulder blade. He whipped around and saw Christian standing behind him.

"Don't say shit like that!" he screeched. He watched the blond collapse in the middle of the aisle and start to rock back and forth slowly. "We can't live like this much longer."

Praying that Christian wouldn't have a psychotic break as well, Sheamus stepped over him and sat in his seat again. They really needed to get out of this mess somehow; yet with the threat of a supposed killer in the air, they couldn't do anything but sit on the bus and wait.

* * *

**CM Punk's POV**

Phil looked on as Christian started to roll around on the ground, mumbling incoherently, and Sheamus sat back down in his seat with desperation written all over his pale face. His own strength was coming back quite rapidly, and Chris was recovering speedily as well.

"Can you reiterate what's going on, Punk?" Chris asked, leaning his head back into Phil's chest to look him in the eyes. "I feel lost."

He sighed once. "Herbert had a heart attack and died. His body was found outside the bus with a cryptic message written into his fat belly. Miz, Zack, and Randy lost it when they saw the body. Alberto and Santino left the bus in hopes of finding civilization. There's a supposed killer on the loose, too, so no doubt Alberto and Santino won't make it far enough to find actual human beings. Christian's rocking on the floor, possibly having a meltdown, Sheamus is exhausted and fed up with being here, and the realization that we seriously can't live much longer like this has hit everyone like a brick."

"What are we going to do?" Chris asked Phil. His beautiful blue eyes were clouded with worry.

"I don't know, Chris," Phil told him honestly. "I really don't know."

* * *

**A/N: Dun dun dunnnn. Hope you enjoyed & Please Review!**  
_A quick shout-out to the wonderful Ryan Dunn, who passed away one year ago today. RIP, Random Hero._


	8. Injury

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

**Christian's POV**

A loud scream woke Christian from his sleep. He jolted upright and ran towards the front of the bus. The double doors were ajar, and rain pounded inside the bus. Miz and Zack were outside, with Miz carrying Zack's limp body back towards the bus. As they got closer, Christian noticed the tears streaming down Miz's face and the sobs ripping from his chest. "Don't just stand there, idiot, help me!" he screeched. Christian cautiously stepped down and helped bring Zack onto the bus. He shut the doors before joining Miz and Zack.

"What happened?" Christian demanded from Miz.

"We went outside to i-investigate and try to get c-cell reception," Miz stuttered. "A-and out of nowhere, Za-Zack fell to the ground and blood started to pour from his back."

Sheamus was already at the head of the vehicle and grabbing the First Aid kit before Christian even had time to think about it. "So what's wrong with him? A bleeding wound to the back?"

"I don't know!" Miz wailed before putting his face in his hands and sobbing uncontrollably.

Christian left Sheamus with an injured Zack while he led Miz to an empty seat. He sat down next to the shivering, hysterical man. "Miz, you need to calm down. Take a deep breath. Wipe your eyes – good, like that. Now close your eyes and try to stop crying."

He rubbed a soothing hand along Miz's arm while he fought to stop crying. After a few minutes, he tired himself of crying and just sat shivering, occasionally sniffling. "Is he going to be okay?"

Christian sighed. If only the answer to that was clear! "I think he'll be alright, Miz. Why don't you take a nap and I'll wake you up when we know what's going on?"

"Don't leave me!" he begged, grabbing onto Christian's arm. "Please, just stay with me."

He sighed and sat back down. He allowed the frightened man to rest his head on his shoulder and fall asleep. From his seat, he had a clear view of Sheamus tending to Zack. He poured a liquid onto the wound on his back – which was a pretty deep laceration – and cringed when the Broski screeched in pain and writhed on the ground. The liquid made bubbles on the wound.

"We have to prevent infection, fella," Sheamus said, trying to soothe the injured man. He let him ride out the pain before applying cotton dressings over the affected area. Once he had a decent amount of gauze over the wound, he taped it in place and checked the rest of his body for injury. "I think that's it for now, Zack. Does anything else hurt?"

"My foot," he spoke, letting out a slight hiss when he sat up. "I think I stepped on something a couple days or so ago."

"You have boots on," Sheamus mumbled, taking the boot off regardless. "It's just a blister. I'll put a Band-Aid over it."

After Sheamus applied the bandage, he took Zack's other boot off and helped him to a seat.

"I wanna sit with Miz," he said, wiping his eyes again. "Christian, get up."

Christian got out of his seat and helped Sheamus sit Zack down next to Miz. Miz stirred and, once he realized Zack was okay, he smiled wide and hugged the other man. "I'm so glad you're alright! How do you feel?"

Christian left Miz to fuss over Zack while he went to another seat. As he sat down, he noticed the Celtic Warrior sitting down next to him. "Kinda hard to believe we've been out here for only two days now, huh?"

Only two days? It felt more like a year. "It's only Wednesday?"

"Wednesday night, yes," Sheamus sighed, rubbing a hand through his orange hair. "I feel as if we've been out here for months."

Content that someone else shared his concerns, Christian grunted in response. "You think Alberto and Santino will get help for us, or even get out of these woods at all?"

He looked up to see Sheamus staring at him. "I hope they make it out of these woods alive! If they do that, I have no doubt that they'll send for help as best they can."

"How's Zack's injury?" the blond wondered, scratching his head briefly.

"It's pretty bad," Sheamus murmured so only Christian could hear him. "It will heal, but his biggest enemy right now is infection. If that gets infected, he's gonna get sepsis and die. We don't have the resources to fight an infection of that size."

"Huh? What's sepsis?"

"An infection that basically travels through the blood and to the entire body. He'd be dead within six to eight hours out here, I'm guessing, if he got that."

"How do we prevent infection, then?" Christian wondered.

"I'll have to change his dressings a couple times a day and put that liquid stuff on it as well. Once the wound has started to close up a little, I'll put antibiotic cream on the dressings before I put it over the wound."

In the matter of two days, they had seen three injuries and illnesses, witnessed one death, and lost two men to the depths of the woods. "I'm so tired."

"Go to sleep," Sheamus told the Canadian. "I'll keep watch. Tomorrow I was thinking of bringing Randy and Cody with me to get some more water. When we get back, I'll send Kane and you out to hopefully find some food. Just remember to not stray too far from here, alright?"

Christian nodded tiredly. He already knew the drill. He blocked out the sound of Sheamus repeating precautions to him and drifted off in sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it's short! Hope you enjoyed & Please Review!**


	9. The Noise

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

* * *

**CM Punk's POV**

Phil woke up to bright sunlight shining in his eyes. He peered out the window and noticed that, for the first time that they've been out there, it had stopped raining! Warm, dazzling sunlight bathed the forest floor and dried up some of the smaller puddles. He pulled Chris closer to him and sighed peacefully. Chris woke up at the movement and cursed the light in his eyes.

"Fucking bright as shit … hey! It's not raining!" he observed, sitting up straight in his seat. Phil chuckled and mussed his hair some.

"Nice observation skills. And for our next lesson, class, we'll be learning about primary and secondary colors," Phil teased, earning a sarcastic scoff from Chris.

"I just woke up, okay? Leave me alone."

"Why would I leave you alone?" he murmured to the older man. "I want to be by your side. You're sort of humorous."

Chris snorted once. "Sort of? Little boy, you haven't seen anything if you think I'm _sort of_ humorous."

"Don't call me that," Phil warned lightly. "Call me Punk or call me nothing at all. And I'm most certainly _not_ a little boy."

"Whatever you say, 'Nothing At All'," Chris said with a smirk. Phil rolled his eyes, amused.

"Are you feeling better?" Phil asked, changing his tone. "I don't want to feel better if you're not feeling better as well."

"Just a crusty nose," Chris said. "And a little worn-out. But otherwise I'm feeling better. You?"

Phil nodded. "I feel like my old self again."

He looked up when he noticed Sheamus standing above him. "Morning, fellas. I'm off with Randy and Cody to get some water. Feeling better?"

"Yes, thanks," Phil spoke.

"Alright," the Irish man sighed contentedly. He stretched briefly. "Maybe later we can bring you outside for a few minutes to walk around, stretch those legs, and soak up some sunlight. It would do you both some good. In fact, it'd do everyone some good."

"That does sound like a nice idea," Phil agreed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Be careful. Danger still lurks out there."

"Oh, I know," Sheamus assured him. "Randy, Cody, let's go!"

As the three men left the bus, everyone else started to stir from their sleep. Letting his mind cloud over, he thought back to the note he found in Herbert's wallet. It said something about how things would happen that nobody would suspect. He scoffed at the idea. Of course nobody would suspect getting lost in the middle of freaking nowhere, having to witness a heart attack, and watch as seemingly heterosexual men fell for each other. With that last thought, he looked around at Miz and Zack, who were holding each other in their semi-sleeping states, and then at himself and Chris. He smiled, and thought about the newly-formed strong friendships that were made as well. Sheamus and Christian had become really close, as well as Randy and Cody. Maybe Herbert was some sort of psychic. But he could have just as easily been some freak that had a dream that just so happened to come true.

Lost in reverie, he jumped when Sheamus, Randy, and Cody returned with a shitload of fresh water. Christian gave him a pat on the back and side-stepped the group to make his way out of the bus with Kane. Kane being the only one who could catch an animal, and Christian the only one to find edible vegetation, the two were probably leaving to get some food. His stomach growled loudly in response.

"Good luck!" he called to the two men. Christian gave him a quick wave before bouncing off the bus. Sheamus had Randy and Cody lug the water to the back of the bus while he walked over to Phil.

"Why don't you two start standing up and stretching your legs? When Christian and Kane get back, I'm gonna take you two outside for a few minutes."

Phil imagined the sun shining on and warming his back. He arched his back and stretched his arms above his head. "Alright. Thanks, Sheamus."

As the Irish man walked away, Phil prodded Chris' side. "Ouch! What do you want?"

"Didn't you hear him, nimrod?" Phil smirked. "We're going outside soon."

Phil helped Chris to his feet. Not being used to standing up for a while, Phil felt himself get really dizzy.

"I feel like I'm in a tunnel," he muttered, shutting his eyes tightly and holding onto the back of the seat for support. He felt Chris' hand on his arm as he rode out the dizziness. "You okay?"

He nodded; just a bit of dizziness. "My legs feel like Jell-O."

"Mine feel like a sea serpent."

He gave the blond a weird look. "How in the fuck does that happen?"

Chris snorted. "Sea serpents are all long and wiggly. That's what my legs feel like."

"If you say so," he murmured, a smile stretching across his face.

They didn't have to wait too long for Kane and Christian to return.

"No animals running about," Kane said apologetically. "But Christian managed to find some roots, nuts, and berries."

"And lots of them!" Christian announced, bringing forth a t-shirt filled with vegetation. A loud cheer passed through the men when they saw the food, and Christian broke out into a smile.

"Nice work, Christian!" Sheamus praised, giving the small man a pat on the back. "Divvy that up while I bring Beavis and Butthead out to get some fresh air."

"I call being Beavis!" Chris shouted, pushing Phil into the aisle.

"Well, no shit, you _are_ the blond one," he teased. "And rightfully so."

"Just get on with it!" Chris said amidst laughter. "The sun is callin' my name!"

Phil let Chris push him down the aisle with a smirk plastered on his face. This time Monday afternoon, he would have killed Chris for even coming near him. My, how things change!

The first of the sun's rays hit him on his chest. Soon, his entire body burned, but in a nice, comfortable way, from the sun. Screwing his eyes shut, he lifted his face upwards and soaked in as much of it as he could. "It feels so nice!"

"Walk around a bit, then," Sheamus encouraged, waving his hands in the air a bit to emphasize his point. Phil grabbed Chris' hand in his and walked circles with the older man. He broke off from him and started to skip about, genuine laughter pouring from his soul. He felt rejuvenated.

After quite a few minutes of walking around and feeling the sun graze his tattooed skin, he knew Sheamus would start to lead them back into the bus at any time. Sure enough, he did.

"Come on, you two. I want to get Zack and Miz out here for a few minutes, too. I'm sure Christian has left you two some food…"

If he was going to continue speaking, Phil wouldn't have heard a single word of it. At the slight mention of food, his stomach growled again and he bounded up the stairs and to his seat. He waited for Chris to catch up with him so he could take the inside seat. Phil knew how much Chris liked that seat, even before all of this happened. He would always hog it.

"Hungry?" Christian taunted playfully, holding food up out of arms reach. He finally poured even portions into the men's waiting hands and walked off as they dug in. With berry juice trickling down his chin, Phil leaned back and wrapped an arm around Chris' neck.

* * *

**Christian's POV**

By 5:30 pm, the sky filled with clouds once more and a torrential storm started. Thunder shook the ground and lightning pierced the sky all while rain pounded down in every different direction. Christian, who had been pacing the aisle of the bus, now sat back down in his seat, watching as the sky lit up spasmodically and thunder cracked in the air. The sun hadn't been out more than ten hours and already the fucking rain was starting up again!

"I hope Alberto and Sandusky aren't stuck in this storm," Jericho piped up from his seat. Christian's face broke out in a smirk at the same time a mild clap of thunder roared. Ever since Y2J's return a few years back where he cut the promo declaring "Me want title match", he frequently referred to Santino as Sandusky. "It looks brutal out there."

"If those two are doing anything, I hope they fucking found someone to save us," Randy growled.

"I'm sure they're working on it, fella," Sheamus piped up from a few seats in front of Christian. "Alberto isn't as stupid as he seems. As for Santino, I can't quite say the same…"

A few snickers sounded as a response to the Irish man. A loud whine came from Cody.

"I'm bored!"

"Here, go outside with this," Randy handed a piece of metal to the young man, "and run around until it lights up."

Cody shrugged his shoulders and got out of his seat, holding the piece of metal. What a fucking idiot! Christian threw his arm across the aisle to stop Cody from advancing. "Don't actually do it, dumbass. You'll die."

Cody dropped the item on the floor and whipped his head back to the Viper, who had a smirk on his face in place of the permanent snarl. "You were going to do it, too. You're so dumb."

"That was not nice," Cody said, waving his finger at Randy. "I could have died!"

"Not before the rest of us got to witness a light show," Randy joked. Laughter erupted from the men.

Grunting, Cody slumped back down in his seat and crossed his arms, trying to pretend the deep blush spreading across his face wasn't there. Christian looked at the clock to find half an hour had passed, and it was already 6 pm. "Thursday is almost over, guys," he announced to the bus. A few groans passed through the men. He sat back in his seat and shut his eyes. He sent hopes and prayers out that someone, _anyone_, would come across Alberto and Santino so they could be saved from this hell hole. No man or woman was made to live out in a fucking bus for any length of time!

Big Show had been resting in his seat when all of a sudden he rose to his full height and growled, "Everyone shut the hell up! I think I hear something."

Silence fell, and the only noise that could be heard was the rain, wind, and thunder. No noise came from underneath those roaring noises.

"I swear to god I fucking heard what sounded like screaming or something," Show murmured, still straining his ears to listen. Christian watched as the giant pressed his ear against the window and remained still. After a few moments, however, he pulled away from the window and gave a grunt. "I'm not kidding; I heard a scream."

"I'm sure you did," Christian assured him. "Unfortunately, it was probably just one scream or something. And it could have been an animal or something. All I know is we're staying here."

All men sat on edge for the rest of the night in fear of whatever Big Show heard screaming. Eventually, though, their fear exhausted them to sleep. Christian remained awake to keep watch for the first half of the night. Nothing eventful happened by the time he woke Kane up to take the second shift. He fell asleep with a feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was still off kilter.

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**A/N: lol, I love making Cody so stupid! c: Hope you enjoyed! Please Review!**


	10. Rejoice

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the WWE Superstars featured in this fic. I wish I could borrow them, though...  
**Rated:** M  
**WARNINGS:** slash, m/m pairings & sex, character death, blood and gore, explicit language, & other graphic scenes

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**Sheamus' POV**

Sheamus opened his eyes and blinked away the sleep, taking just a moment to calm down after having such a horrendous nightmare. He let his heart steady before he checked the time – 8:56 am – and noted it was Friday. Normally, he wasn't one to be frightened so easily, especially by a dream, but this one was far different than anything he'd ever experienced before.

He dreamt that he, Daniel, and Cena had gone off into the woods for some reason when a loud shriek came from the undergrowth. Cena disappeared into a tree – a fault in his dream, clearly – and he and Daniel investigated the noise. Something popped out at them …

Sheamus shook his head to rid his thoughts of the dream, and instead focused his attention on the few men that were awake. Cena was bitching about the bathroom being smelly, and Jericho complained of being hungry. Miz and Zack made small talk next to each other. To busy himself, he got out of his seat and walked towards the Broski.

"Hey, Sheamus," Zack greeted him, giving him a slight nod. "Here to check out my back?"

"Yeah," Sheamus spoke, his voice _thankfully_ not giving any sort of hint to his fear. He retrieved the First Aid kit and went back over to Zack. He had turned in his seat so Sheamus had a better angle of it. After putting on a pair of gloves, he carefully removed the dressings covering the wound and examined it. The cut was barely open, and dark red scabs lined the outside of it. There was no sign of infection, but Sheamus still poured a little peroxide onto the wound to be sure. He ignored Zack hiss slightly as it made the open part of his wound bubble some while he opened up a few packets of gauze. After putting some antibacterial ointment onto the cloth, he pressed it gently over the wound and taped it down. Zack turned back in his seat and sighed.

"Thanks, bro. Hurts like a bitch, but at least it's not infected."

Sheamus took off the gloves and threw away the trash. He shoved the First Aid kit back onto the wall and slumped in his seat. Everything was going well for a couple hours when Big Show stood up with such momentum the entire bus rocked.

"Guys, I fucking hear it again!" He yelled. Everyone hushed, and this time, even with the rain pounding against the vehicle, everyone else heard it, too.

"It sounds like a police siren," Orton noted quietly. "Doesn't it?"

The men agreed with the Apex Predator when they realized it did, too. Over the course of the next few minutes, the siren slowly became louder until it seemed it must be right behind the bus.

"Does anybody see lights?" Sheamus called, pressing his face against the window regardless of the fact he couldn't see shit. Randy dared to open his window for a moment to stick his head out. He pulled his face back in and shut the window. "I can't be sure, but I think I saw some sort of flashing."

Excitement radiated off of everybody. Sheamus made a loud _shh_ before addressing everyone. "If it really is a police car, they'll stumble upon the bus soon and save us. Let's just stay quiet and calm until then."

Everyone stared hopefully in different directions as the siren got increasingly louder. Within a couple minutes, red, blue, and white lights started flashing against the sides of the bus. Sheamus smiled once and shook his head; he really hoped this was legit.

A loud pounding on the double doors made everyone jump. Sheamus jolted out of his seat and ran to the front of the bus. A man dressed in a crisp, albeit soaked, police uniform hit the glass with his fists. Sheamus butted them open with his shoulders and damn near jumped into the man's arms.

"Tacoma Police," the man's voice trailed off as he saw Sheamus' tired expression and sunken eyes. He and two other police officers pushed their way past the Great White and stood at the front of the bus. "Are these the WWE Superstars who got stuck out in the woods?"

"What do you think?" Randy murmured loud enough for the few men around him to hear. Sheamus watched Kane extend his long arm and slap his shoulder roughly.

"Yes, yes we are!" Christian spoke. "There's me, Sheamus, Cena, Punk, Jericho, Bryan, Kane, Show, Orton, Rhodes, Zack, and Miz here. Alberto and Santino left two days ago."

The police officer who had initially pounded on the doors whipped his speaker out and said something in police-speak. "We're sending backup so we can get you out of here safely. Remain where you are seated until help arrives."

The three police officers guarded the front of the bus as the men nearly jumped for joy. They went around and hugged each other and high-fived one another. Sheamus ran up to Christian and the two double high-fived before embracing each other in a friendly hug. Laughs ran freely from every man when they realized they were saved.

Sheamus left the celebrating men and went towards the police officers. "Can you tell me how you found us?" he asked.

"We were working with everything we had, starting with looking at all the bus schedules and ending with massive search parties throughout various forests. Our biggest lead, though, was when we found two of your counterparts lying dead one hundred or so feet from an interstate highway. One was disemboweled with his intestines partially pulled from his abdomen, and the other was decapitated. A smaller search party stumbled upon a massive pile of blood and followed it to the bodies. We then scoured these woods for a few hours until we finally came upon the bus."

Sheamus' heart clamped slightly when he heard of Alberto and Santino's deaths. "My god, they were so young…"

"It is a shame," he spoke truthfully. "The worst part is their deaths were so beneficial."

Sheamus nodded in agreement and sighed. "I can't wait to get out of here."

"I would imagine," the officer mused.

After another half hour of waiting, four more police cruisers joined the two already parked beside the bus. The lead officer on the bus stepped forward. "All right, men, pair up! Two to a cruiser! We're getting you out of here."

They gathered what little belongings they still had and were escorted by pairs onto different cruisers. Miz helped Zack down the stairs of the bus. Afterwards, Punk and Jericho left together. Cena and Bryan, Orton and Cody, and Show and Kane got off as well. Sheamus grabbed Christian's arm and exited the bus last. They followed the lead officer to his car and got in the back. After nearly four days, they were finally leaving those fucking woods and that damn bus. No other feeling could have been better than the realization he had at that very moment.

* * *

**CM Punk's POV**

Phil allowed Jericho to lean on his shoulder as they sat in the back of a police cruiser, slowly making their way through the sodden forest. They only moved when the car rolled over something and made them bounce slightly. Phil sighed once.

"What's wrong?" Jericho asked. Phil looked down at him and gave a weak smile.

"Is all of this going to change now that we're not locked on a bus together?" Phil wondered sadly. Chris slowly connected their lips in an attempt to reassure him. It did, but only a little.

"Nothing is going to change, except for the fact that we're not confined to a bus anymore," Chris spoke, slowly shutting his eyes. Content with the answer he was given, Phil allowed his eyes to shut as well, happy that the memory of being stuck on the bus was just that – a memory.

***THE END***

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**A/N: And we're done here, guys! I hope you've enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. I was thinking about writing a sequel to this fic, so if you're interested in seeing it, let me know! Please Review!**


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